A Rendered Soul
by Lothiriel
Summary: Legolas (yes I know, yet another one of these fics) has to make a devastating choice between equally beloved friends.
1. Prologue

Here's my little fanfic that is robbing me of all will to do any work, because I am so engrossed in it. Some of it, I know will be totally inaccurate, not to mention the fact I have no idea how long Legolas has existed, so quite a lot of the first few chapters will be me trying to fill in time up until the War of the Ring, and therefore I know people will find loads to say about the incorrectness. Once again, I make a plea for leniency!  
  
Just that little note that seems to be required to say that Legolas, Mirkwood, the rest of the Fellowship etc don't belong to me, I know Tolkien would be turning in his grave at the thought of this fanfic, but here goes anyway!!  
  
  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
Mirkwood lay wreathed in verdant majesty beneath the warm summer sun. Its vast leagues stretched as far as the eye could see, fading into a hazy green that merged into the blue of the sky. The day seemed perfect to all who lived in the great forest.  
  
Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood was strolling through the wood, is mind completely at ease. With him was his beloved friend, Lóriel, an old childhood companion. She had long black hair, which captured the light of the blue sky and deep brown eyes, unusual for an elf. She was listening intently to her friend's tales of the great forest of Fangorn, and his travels there with Gimli the dwarf.  
  
'I would like to have met Gimli,' she remarked after having drawn from him a description of the loyal dwarf. 'When are you going to invite him here so we can all meet such a legendary warrior?'  
  
Legolas sighed. 'Alas, other elves think differently to you. Their reaction when I told them he had been named elf friend… It was an insult to Gimli's valour and loyalty.'  
  
Lóriel waved her hand impatiently. 'Ridiculous. How can they judge him just because he is a dwarf? They know nothing of his character, and in their stubbornness refuse to look past the prejudices between elves and dwarves that began…many thousands of years ago.'  
  
Legolas nodded sadly. 'At the beginning of the journey, I was like that. I refused to look past the elven stereotype of dwarves. But during our stay in Lothlórien, Gimli who up to then had fostered as intense a dislike of me as I had of him, began to see things as we elves see them. The power of Galadriel affected him, and he realised that elves were not the cold hearted beings he believed. He asked me if he might not accompany me on the explorations I made around the Golden Wood. Surprised, I agreed before I thought what I had done. Gimli was just as curious as I was about the life of the elves in Lórien, and this changed my heart towards him. If a dwarf could open his heart to embrace elven life, then an elf could do the same.'  
  
'And you saw that he was a friend, no matter how much you seemed to be completely the opposite,' Lóriel laughed.  
  
'Indeed I did. You can find friendship in the most unexpected people, Lóriel. Look at the Fellowship of the Ring. Four hobbits, two men, a wizard, a dwarf and an elf are not the most likely travelling companions, yet we all became fast friends.'  
  
'And what about your friends in Mirkwood?' Lóriel queried playfully.  
  
'Friends in Mirkwood…hmm…who could they be, I wonder?' His eyes gleamed with merry laughter as he fended off Lóriel's blows.  
  
'Forgetting me, how could you!' she cried. Legolas pinned her hands, then looping his arm around her shoulders, he drew her along the path.  
  
'Wait, I seem to remember one, young Elf maid, dark hair and eyes, name of Lo…Lothíriel was it?' Seeing Lóriel's arms rising for another blow he added 'No? Oh, yes! I've got it! Lóriel! How could I forget such a dear friend!'  
  
Their clear laughter rippling on the breeze, the two elves wandered on into the wood, their hearts absorbing the peace of the green leaves around them. 


	2. Loosing the Arrow

Have been writing the flashback scenes and they are going on forever, rather than just a chapter as I anticipated. Hold on there, something will happen (eventually!)  
  
Legolas and Lóriel had been friends from a very young age. Legolas had been a young elf boy when a visiting elf had arrived from one of the larger dwellings in Mirkwood, bringing with him his young daughter. He had come to discuss administration of his settlement with King Thranduil, and had brought young Lóriel with him for a chance to see life outside home.  
  
'And who's this young lady?' Thranduil asked kindly after Erindol had made his greetings.  
  
'I…I'm…I'm Lóriel, your Majesty,' Lóriel said, awe struck at being in the presence of the King.  
  
'Well Lóriel, I'm afraid your father and I are going to be along time discussing business, which I know you won't like, so I am going to ask my son, who is about your age, to take you with him so you can explore together. Legolas!'  
  
A small blond elf boy sidled through the door, his eyes widening at the sight of visitors.  
  
'Legolas, this young lady is Lóriel. I'd like you to look after her for the rest of the day. Lóriel, meet Legolas. He'll take good care of you. Now off you go.'  
  
Legolas and Lóriel ambled towards the door and out into the palace courtyard, where they stood staring at each other. Legolas scuffed his foot in the dust.  
  
'So, what do you want to do?' he asked finally.  
  
'Um…' Lóriel wasn't too sure of herself, not in the great palace, and she felt dreadfully uncomfortable faced by a stranger. 'You don't have to come with me, you know.'  
  
'No trouble,' Legolas said easily. 'Hey, do you do archery?'  
  
'My father won't let me. Says it's undignified for girls.'  
  
'Of course it isn't! Tell you what, I'll teach you. I'm still learning, but it'll give me some practice and you'll learn something useful…hopefully.' He whirled around. 'I'll race you there!'  
  
'But…' But Legolas had sped off and Lóriel had no choice but to follow him and hope she didn't lose him in the maze-like palace.  
  
They arrived panting at a small room just off the stable block and flung themselves down beside the door.  
  
'Unfair!' cried Lóriel.  
  
'Wasn't!' retorted Legolas  
  
'It so was! You had a head start and you knew where you were going!'  
  
Legolas grinned. 'We'll have another race later, to somewhere you do know and we'll see who wins!'  
  
'You…you…' Lóriel burst out laughing at the impudence of her new friend. Legolas got to his feet and pulled her up.  
  
'In here's where we keep the archery equipment. They've kept all the bows I learnt with.' He sized her up. 'Hmm, you'll need a slightly smaller one than the one I've got, we'll keep it light and easy to string.' He saw Lóriel's puzzled face. 'I want to teach you some technique rather than have you struggling to pull back the string. My new bow is harder to string than my old one, and it requires such a lot of effort to draw the string back.' He pulled a comical face, then seized two bows off the wall and motioned for her to pick up a quiver of arrows while he did the same. 'The practice court is just round the corner.'  
  
The two young elves trotted out of the room and round the side of the building where there was a spacious glade. Lóriel looked round in bewilderment. There were some figures of elves painted on wooden boards. Legolas noticed her looking at them and grinned sheepishly.  
  
'I made them. They're supposed to be my brothers and sisters. I've got three brothers and two sisters all older than me. They're such pains. So I made these figures of them and whenever I'm angry at them, I come here and shoot at them! Makes me feel a lot better, I can tell you!'  
  
'I can't shoot at your siblings!' Lóriel pleaded.  
  
'Oh they won't mind!' He looked at her, seeing how uncomfortable she was with this shooting practice. 'I've got some real targets over here. I can't let my archery instructor see these figures, you see.' He began dragging them away. 'Oh dear, here's the one of me!'  
  
Lóriel came over and peered at it with interest. 'You shoot at yourself? That's weird.'  
  
Legolas sighed. 'No my brothers caught on. Actually they found out, and after they finished shouting at me, they painted one of me too! This is also their practice field, so when I'm an annoying pest they come and shoot me full of arrows!'  
  
Lóriel helped him drag the figures to one side and they set up the targets together. Legolas picked up his bow and motioned for her to pick up hers. He took two arrows from a quiver and solemnly handed her one.  
  
'Right, I don't think I'm very good at explaining this, so follow what I do. String your bow…like this, put pressure on it to…yes, that's it! Okay, now place the fletch of the arrow on the string, so…hold the bow…hand firmly like this. Great! Right, your stance, left leg in front of the right, shoulder's width apart, just follow what I do. That's good. Now draw the string back and aim at the centre target. Aim for the bulls eye. Now loose the arrow like this…' His arrow thudded into the centre of the target with Lóriel's about an inch to the right.  
  
'How was that?' Lóriel asked nervously. She could see that he was an excellent archer despite his youth and felt a bit ridiculous.  
  
Legolas walked over to the target, and drew the two arrows out. Then he turned to her smiling.  
  
'That was fantastic! Are you sure that was the first time you've ever done that? You're a natural! It's a pity women aren't allowed in the Mirkwood guard, we could train you up to be a deadly aim.'  
  
'Do you really think so?' Lóriel asked.  
  
'Course I do! Sadly they're never going to allow you to train, so I will train you myself. I still have a lot to learn, but what I learn, I will pass on to you.'  
  
'But in a few hours I will return home and it may be many years before we see each other again.'  
  
'Not if I ask your father if you can come back to play with me.' He put on a winsome voice, clasped his hands together and opened his blue eyes wide. 'Please sir, may I invite Lóriel to visit us again. It has been a great pleasure to have her company for this day.'  
  
'Court speech, huh?' Lóriel said, but she couldn't help smiling.  
  
'And if you're there playing exactly the same game, my father will agree, then what can your father do?' They laughed, then Legolas handed her an arrow. 'But in case, just in case that doesn't work, we'd better get some good training in now. Okay, as last time…' 


	3. Vow of Eternity

Right folks, more flashback...it will end...I promise. Am thinking about teaching the computer LOTR names, the red lines are really annoying me!!  
  
* * * *  
  
Three hours later they ambled back to the archery room, exhausted, but firm friends. As they stowed their bows away, Legolas gave an exclamation of dismay. 'We've missed lunch! Lóriel, I'm so sorry! You must be starving! I know I am!'  
  
As he spoke, Lóriel realised that she was indeed hungry. Legolas stuck his hands in his belt and considered their plight. 'Let's sneak into the kitchen and snatch a loaf of bread and something to drink. I guess it's not much, but there will be little else to eat.'  
  
'Are you sure we won't get into trouble?' Lóriel asked.  
  
'Shouldn't imagine so, someone will have noticed that we weren't at lunch and we'll find something with little problem. Come on.'  
  
They clattered across into the kitchen. At the door, Legolas halted and whispering to Lóriel, 'Follow me!' edged into the kitchen. Lóriel followed, clinging to his arm.  
  
'And what's this the wind's blown in,' a tall elf woman exclaimed. 'Young Legolas and a friend. I'm afraid you've missed dinner, young ones. This is the third time this week is it not, Master Legolas?'  
  
'Yes, Aremiel,' sighed Legolas dispiritedly. 'My father wasn't angry, was he?'  
  
'No, he just chuckled and remarked that you were off up to more mischief. And who's your companion in crime?'  
  
'Lóriel, a guest from Sorendeth. Her father brought her with him when he came to see my father.'  
  
'Starving the poor girl, are we? Well take this loaf and fruit and here's a flagon of juice. Off with you both.' Aremiel smiled at the children and they murmured their thanks and scuttled away.  
  
'She seemed nice,' Lóriel ventured.  
  
'Aremiel? Yes, she's always looked out for me and my siblings. Here's where they're drying the hay. It'll make a good place to sit in the warm sun and eat.'  
  
He scooped up the fragrant grass and heaped it up, then they plumped themselves comfortably in the middle of it. He broke the bread in half, while Lóriel opened the flagon and took a long draught from it.  
  
They lay back on the pile contentedly munching their bread. Legolas stared up at the clear blue sky. 'One day, I'm going to travel,' he announced. 'Far, far away, and do great deeds, and win renown. I don't know how yet, but I will do it.'  
  
Lóriel brushed crumbs from her front and settled back comfortably. 'You're lucky. I'm a girl and I have to stay at home and sew and weave and not do archery. I wish I could come with you.'  
  
'We'll have an adventure together, you and I,' murmured Legolas. The warm sun was making him drowsy, and he fought to keep his eyes open.  
  
Lóriel yawned. The day had been tiring for her and the warmth surrounding her was working its spell on her as well. 'When?' she asked.  
  
'Oh, I don't know. In the future I suppose, but …' huge yawn, 'I have to have you perfectly trained in archery first…'  
  
'Mmm…' was all Lóriel could manage as her eyes closed in sleep. Beside her Legolas also lay in slumber, his breathing soft and even.  
  
* * * *  
  
'Here are the rascals,' King Thranduil whispered to Erindol, as they stood a few yards away observing the small elves curled close together in the remnants of their feast. Erindol smothered laughter as they moved quietly towards their children.  
  
'Come on Legolas! Wake up Lóriel!' King Thranduil called gently, bending over them. They woke with a start and sprang to their feet.  
  
'What is it father,' Lóriel asked in dismay. 'Do we have to go home?'  
  
'I'm afraid so, my dear, unless we want to travel in darkness.'  
  
'But I haven't shown Lóriel the gardens yet or…or…' Legolas was furious with himself. They had slept the afternoon away and he hadn't had a chance to show her the rest of the palace, let alone do more archery.  
  
'I am sorry, Legolas,' Erindol said. 'Maybe you can come and spend some time with Lóriel at her home.'  
  
'I know Legolas would like that very much, 'Thranduil said. 'And I'm sure he'd also like Lóriel to come back and visit us again. You'll be returning in a couple of months won't you, Erindol. Why don't you bring your daughter again? I feel sure there will be several occasions when Legolas and I will be passing near Sorendeth, and these two can meet up.'  
  
He and Erindol started towards the stable, and after collecting up the remains of their meal, Legolas and Lóriel followed them.  
  
'I'm sorry I didn't let you have another go at archery,' Legolas said in an undertone. 'You show so much promise. Next time I see you, we'll get in a lot of practice!'  
  
Lóriel beamed. She had enjoyed the archery lesson as much as Legolas had, and longed to do more. 'You'll come and see me soon, won't you?'  
  
'I'll nag my father until he agrees!' They had reached the stables and Thranduil and Erindol were waiting for them beside a big white horse. Legolas smiled at his new friend and they solemnly shook hands. Legolas leaned forward and whispered, 'Don't' tell anyone about the archery! It's a secret!' Lóriel nodded her head, and Erindol and Thranduil, who had been watching this covert passing of information, smothered their smiles. Then Erindol lifted Lóriel onto his horse and made his farewells to Thranduil, then he cantered smoothly from the courtyard.  
  
Legolas watched them go, then feeling his father's hand upon his back, turned towards the palace and trudged gloomily towards it.  
  
* * * *  
  
The years passed and Legolas and Lóriel met frequently, at both her home and his. They trained hard, and soon Legolas became the most the most promising archer in Mirkwood, with Lóriel a close second, but this skill was unknown to anyone, but the pair.  
  
But this idyllic lifestyle was to come to an end. Legolas was sent away from Mirkwood for several years. As the youngest son of his house, he was sent to the Elven dwelling at Emyn Beraid, to learn new skills, both in archery and courtly matters. Legolas was reluctant to go, but his father's expectations made him accept the offer. He parted unhappily from his friend, promising to come back as soon as he could and also leaving her a bow and a quiver full of finely crafted arrows.  
  
He dwelt for several decades in the Shire, and his superior fighting skills set him apart from the others. He aided the Elves in their patrols of the Shire, and learned different tracking skills. But although his life was busy, he never forgot Lóriel.  
  
Lóriel meanwhile waited patiently at home for Legolas to return. They corresponded infrequently, neither of them being devoted letter writers. Lóriel practised archery secretly in the woods, but she missed the lessons in archery almost as much as she missed her friend. 


	4. Reunited

This is them grown up, but still a flashback. Sorry about getting a little carried away by this whole flashback, but I felt a nagging urge to make sure that they had a chance to reach a good elven age, they seem to wear those thousands of years on their shoulders pretty well. I always remember Legolas calling Aragorn and Gimli 'children' in the Two Towers, so he must be pretty old.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Lóriel was walking through Sorendeth, her heart full of anger. Her younger sister had found her treasured bow, and had told her parents. Lóriel had been almost apoplectic with fury at this most precious thing being violated with taunts. She had only just managed to convince her parents that it had been a parting gift from Legolas, not a weapon that she was learning to use. She was carrying it away into the woods to hide it where no one would come upon it and mock it again. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she did not lift her hand to wipe them away. Her vision was so misted that she did not see the grey horse coming towards her, and almost cannoned straight into it.  
  
'I'm sorry, my lady, I did not see you…' a strangely familiar voice said, as its owner swung down from the horse. Then 'Lóriel?'  
  
Lóriel wiped her eyes and stared at the tall handsome elf that stood before her. 'Legolas?' She flung herself into his arms, her tears now of joy at his arrival.  
  
Legolas felt tears mist his own eyes as he wrapped his arms round his old friend. He sternly blinked them away. 'Lóriel! It makes my heart glad to see you again! I see you still have the old bow I gave you. But why are you hurrying down the street weeping?' He released her gently and stared at her, his blue eyes filled with compassion.  
  
'It's nothing, just my ridiculous quirks. I've kept up the archery you taught me, practising whenever I have free time but I've never told anyone about it. My sister found the bow this morning, and there was a terrible fuss. My parents were convinced I've been practising archery in secrecy. I couldn't tell them the truth, it was a betrayal both to me and to them. I couldn't tell them that I've been lying all these years, that my walks in the wood weren't just that, but archery practise! I had to lie more, pretend it was something you'd given me as a keepsake before you went away.'  
  
'You're not running away?' Legolas asked, horrified.  
  
'No, nothing like that. I want to find somewhere safe to put the bow and arrows, before anyone else starts hauling them around.'  
  
'I'll take them if you like. I know a secret place near here, where no water will get to the equipment.' He took the horse's bridle in one hand, slung her bow and quiver over his shoulder 'for appearances,' he explained with a wink, and drew her along with him. 'I'll drop by and say hi to your father, ask can I stable Cirien there, then covert operation begins.'  
  
Lóriel felt her spirits begin to lift. Now that Legolas was back, things seemed a lot better. They stabled the horse, then Legolas paid a short visit to her parents, telling them that he and Lóriel were going for a walk to catch up on years of news. Dropping by the stables, he picked up his bow, and the pair set off into the wood.  
  
They talked together, falling easily back into the old familiarity of their childhood, but each felt strangely shy towards the other. Legolas could hardly believe that the small elf girl he had left had turned into this beautiful poised woman. But inside she was the same Lóriel, the laughing, daring child, who inspired him to greater mischief in whatever they did. His eyes kept returning to her, the silken strands of her hair, the large dark eyes, her rippling laughter, her graceful movements.  
  
Lóriel also walked along, thinking of the changes time had done to the cheeky elf boy. Gone were the chubby cheeks, although she noticed with a smile, he retained his dimples. His long blond hair, swept casually back off his forehead, reached past his shoulder, and his movements spoke of effortless grace. She could still see something of the old Legolas in his eyes, the light and laughter in them were the same as when he had been a boy.  
  
'So what are you going to do about the archery problem?' Legolas inquired.  
  
Lóriel bit her lip. 'I don't know. I really don't know. It's not just the lack of practise I get, but the lying. I can see that the more lies I tell the harder it's going to be to extricate myself from them. I tried once, by broaching the subject of women learning to use weapons, my parents were against it, heart, mind and soul. They couldn't accept it, even as a pastime. I know in these days a few elf women are learning archery skills, and sword skills, but they are few. My parents say there are enough men to protect us, why should women waste their time learning to fight, because there are many other things to be learned.'  
  
'I don't think it's a waste of time learning to fight,' Legolas answered softly. 'There are dangers out in the world. Everyone should learn how to protect themselves. Archery is a good way. If you were attacked by a group of orcs, you would be far more likely to survive if you shot them down rather than grapple with them. They would over power you and slay you. If you played nimble and quick, hit and run techniques, you'd have a good chance of survival. I learned a lot about this kind of stuff in the Shire. Women are taught archery skills. Although they do not patrol, they are placed on guard around the dwellings, and can be very effective.'  
  
A longing flared in Lóriel. 'Why was I born a woman? I would so love to be involved in these activities.' She sighed. 'I don't understand how other women can be content to stay at home. As I said, other girls do train in archery, but Mirkwood is becoming dangerous. It is for their own protection, not for protecting others.'  
  
'Don't you like to dress up and look beautiful,' Legolas teased.  
  
Lóriel grinned ruefully. 'I can't deny that I like beautiful clothes, and dressing up, but there are no people to see me much of the day, so I tend not to bother. When there is a feast I dress up, and I admit, I do enjoy it. But look at me today.' She was wearing an old riding habit, one sleeve darned, and the pattern beginning to fade.  
  
Legolas enfolded her hand in his. 'Today, we are going to do some good practise, before we hide that bow of yours away for a bit. I have learned so many new things, and I have been longing to teach them to you.'  
  
* * * *  
  
Legolas discovered that Lóriel's talent had not diminished over the years. She was as deadly an aim as ever, and Legolas instructed her in the new techniques and tricks he had picked up in his years away. Finally, they relaxed at the edge of the woodland glade.  
  
'You've certainly practised a lot,' Legolas remarked. 'I ought to have returned sooner.'  
  
'Have you been home since you left?' Lóriel asked.  
  
'No.' Here Legolas hesitated. 'Lóriel…'  
  
'What is it, Legolas?' Lóriel turned to him, her eyes darkening with anxiety.  
  
'Lóriel, I have not returned for good. I am to be posted as Captain of the Southern Mirkwood guard. I will not be able to return frequently, and only then for flying visits. My father told me of his plans last night when I reached home.'  
  
Lóriel swallowed hard, her mind absorbing the shock of his announcement. 'You must go…When?'  
  
'In a couple of months time. Father wants me to get used to being back in these woodlands again. Lóriel, in that time I can see you frequently, but after that, I will only be able to see you every few years.'  
  
Lóriel was crying openly now. Legolas pulled her into his arms, tears flowing down his own face as he whispered to her. 'I won't let our friendship die, Lóriel, I promise.'  
  
'I know, Legolas. This can't be helped. I should have seen it coming. You are the King's son and a promising warrior. Mirkwood needs elves like you.'  
  
'And elves like you, Lóriel. You have bravery and loyalty rivalling that of any warrior.' He touched her cheek gently. 'Promise me this. Do not give up your archery. Do you remember what I said when we were young, that we'd have an adventure together? We have all the years of the world before us, and I would have you prepared.'  
  
Lóriel's sobs lessened, but the tears coursing down both their cheeks did not, and she clung to her friend, relishing these moments in his company. 


	5. My heart will not forget

Yay!!!! The last flashback chapter!!! I'm sorry, but I couldn't get my fingers to stop and they and my brain just churned out this step by step description of Legolas and Lóriel's past.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Over the next two months, they spent as much time in each other's company as they could, but soon Legolas had to leave for Southern Mirkwood. Their parting was painful, both uncomforted by the thought of their future meetings. Legolas' new life in the South of Mirkwood was successful, orcs and other dark creatures learned to fear the area. In his heart however, Legolas pined for his birthplace, and Lóriel. His visits north were as frequent as he could make them, but not enough for him. Every moment spent with the elf maid was treasured. Thranduil noticed how devoted the pair were to each other, and knew they were falling in love, something his son did not fully realise yet himself. But he was concerned for the young elves. He wanted Legolas to make a name for himself, and for hundred of years, Legolas remained at the fortress in Mirkwood. Thranduil saw in his youngest son responsibility, and sent him as his representative to gatherings of the White Council. He taught him diplomacy and words of courtesy. In all this Legolas excelled, but his heart was in the fastness of Northern Mirkwood with Lóriel.  
  
For her part, Lóriel remained faithful to Legolas' instructions to practise her archery, slipping out every morning to train. But her life as a young elf maiden was far from the adventure that she dreamed of. Other male Elves were beginning to take an interest in her, but she refused to commit to any of them. None of them seemed to live up to Legolas' standard. Her dearest wish was to be fighting along side him, in the region of southern Mirkwood.  
  
And now a fresh worry came into her life. Evil was rumoured to be stirring once more in Mordor. The guard on the borders of Mirkwood was doubled. Lóriel worried incessantly about Legolas' life, but her fears proved to be unfounded.  
  
Legolas made another of his increasingly rare visits on a sunny October morning. He appeared in her glade while she was practising her archery. Lóriel was aware of his presence the moment he arrived, but did not speak until she had sent the last of seven arrows slamming into the target.  
  
'Yes, your highness?' she remarked coolly, as she unstrung her bow and dropped it on the ground.  
  
'At your service, my lady,' Legolas retorted, undaunted by her apparent indifference to his arrival. Laughing she spun round and ran over to him. 'Legolas! I truly did not expect you here! It is only a few months since you left. This is a pleasant surprise!'  
  
Legolas linked her arm through his, and after putting her bow and arrows away, they meandered off though the woods. Legolas was unusually quiet and serious. Drawing her to a halt beneath a giant oak, he said. 'I'm afraid this residence in Northern Mirkwood is temporary. I apologise for not having come to see you sooner, Lóriel, but due to matters slightly out of our control, I had to remain with the guard back at home. This is a flying visit, as I'm being sent to Rivendell tomorrow as my father's representative. Lord Elrond has summoned all the elf lords on a matter of great importance.'  
  
'It's to do with the Dark Lord, isn't it?' Lóriel felt a thrill of fear course through her. 'Is he planning to attack Middle-earth once again.'  
  
'Something like that. You know the White Council drove him from Dol Guldur, and he went back to Mordor, and developed it into the fearsome stronghold that it is today?' He barely paused for Lóriel's nod. 'Well the Ring of Power has been found again. Elrond is calling the council to decide what is to happen to the Ring and the fate of Middle-earth.'  
  
'And because you know of the imminence of war, you know that you must go and aid wherever is needed.'  
  
Legolas chuckled. 'You always anticipate what I am going to say. Yes, that is indeed what I was planning to do. I have the honour to be permitted to attend this council, besides which we elves of Mirkwood have our own pieces of information to add to the general picture. I must go Lóriel, not just because my father is sending me, but because I feel the need to go and aid others, people outside Mirkwood.'  
  
'I wish you good luck and may Elbereth bless you.' Lóriel touched his hand, then ran, not wanting him to see the agony on her face. Tears flowing, she ran back to her home, and wept bitterly.  
  
Legolas watched Lóriel go, his heart longing to run after her, to hold her in his arms and whisper all the pain away. But he had to do this. Before leaving the clearing he made a silent vow to return. His heart would not forget. 


	6. Into the fire

Back to the present…I'm sure it does little good to dwell too much in the past. Now the action is beginning to hot up…finally…  
  
* * * * *  
  
The long sunny afternoon continued, dappled sunlight falling on the faces of the two elves as they walked on through the forest. Both had archery equipment with them, for, as usual, they were planning to practise their skill, but that was second most in their minds. For now they relished the time spent together.  
  
'You have been back in North Mirkwood for a couple of years now, Legolas, and I'm starting to think you'll be leaving soon,' Lóriel murmured. 'How much longer are you going to stay?'  
  
'Well…' Legolas hesitated. Then as fear sprang onto Lóriel's face, he quickly continued. 'I have left the South Mirkwood guard, and returned here. They have little need of me there, peace reigns throughout Middle- earth. So I have come back here to live.'  
  
'Really truly?' Lóriel asked, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing.  
  
'Really truly!' He smiled at her. 'How long have we known each other, Lóriel? Years upon years upon years. And yet we've spent little time together since we were but children. But now we have all the rest of time before us!'  
  
Lóriel said nothing, wishing she had the courage to speak what her heart felt. Finally she said 'But if something should come between us…'  
  
Legolas caught her hand. 'Nothing will, Lóriel, even though people should tear us apart, my thoughts will always be with you.'  
  
'And mine with you,' she whispered. Her heart lifted. Nothing could come between them. Even if she had only his friendship, that was enough.  
  
Legolas glanced at her. 'Are you feeling alright?'  
  
'Pardon? Oh, of course, just thinking about the future … nothing really…' Her voice tailed off, and she tightened her grip on Legolas' hand. He turned her to face him.  
  
'Lóriel, you know if there's anything you have bottled up inside you, you can tell me…' He wanted to tell her that he would listen because he loved her, but his fear of her rejection would not let him speak further. Her dark eyes looked up at him, pleading, but she did not speak.  
  
'Lóriel…' Legolas began, then a sound made him start, loosening his grasp. The pair twisted around, searching for the origin of the noise  
  
Another faint cry floated towards them on the breeze. They turned in its direction, straining their ears. Then they heard a tumult of cries, the unmistakable crackle of fire and then, drifting towards them on the same wind that brought the cries of terror, black smoke. Both elves seized their bows and notched an arrow on the string. Then, with a silent nod to each other, they began making their way towards the sounds.  
  
Fires lit up the surrounding forest as the small elven dwelling burned. Lóriel, first on the scene, ducked behind a bush, motioning her friend behind her. They stared in horror at what they saw. A troop of men, armed with burning brands and long swords, were causing devastation to the village. The elves were massively outnumbered, but they fought on bravely. The men aimed at the male elves, slaughtering them ruthlessly, then turned to the women and children they were attempting to protect. Trussing them up, they set a guard on them, the gleaming swords a dread warning as they lay across the throat of a child.  
  
Legolas shook himself out of the stupor of horror. Nudging Lóriel, he whispered 'We must get the children and women out somehow. You keep yourself hidden and fire at them, causing as much distraction. Meanwhile, I will slip around and free the women and children. Keep hidden at all costs. If you think you are about to be captured, run, as hard and as fast as you can. Yes, you must,' for Lóriel was shaking her hear, denying his last words. 'You must run to Sorendeth, and tell them of this and bring back reinforcements.'  
  
He notched another arrow on his bowstring and crept off into the forest. Her heart pounding, Lóriel gave him twenty seconds to get away, then loosed an arrow. It struck it target, straight through the throat. Red lifeblood gushed out, and for an instant Lóriel froze. Her mind screamed at her, You've killed a living person! But then she saw clearly the destruction the men were wreaking on her people, and her heart hardened. She set another arrow to the string and sent it singing into the mob. 


End file.
